Apparation
by Unsuspected
Summary: Albus wasn't the best Apparator, but he wasn't expecting to find himself in a cluttered apartment with such strange people. Wizard, Muggle, whatever they are, he's just caused a lot of trouble. Featuring many Venomous Tentaculas and, of course, books.
1. Chapter 1

Determination. Destination. Deliberation. It was drilled into his head by then, the Apparation teacher had repeated it so many times, it would be impossible for anyone to forget. But he was still nervous. This was the first time practicing outside of Hogwarts, and if Al messed up, who knew what might happen? What if he got splinched, and no one was around to help him? No. He couldn't think that. He had to think of determination, destination, and deliberation, not what might happen if he wasn't sufficiently deliberate or determined or whatever nonsense it was that caused your body to split apart so horridly. Yes. That was better. And he was relieved to feel the semi-familiar but all too memorable sensation—that of vanishing into thin air—reach all of him. This meant that everything was okay—he had done it. Albus was safe from being splinched, he was sure.

That was lovely, of course, being confident that all of his limbs were still attached. What was considerably less pleasant, however, was appearing in the middle of a cluttered apartment that was clearly not anywhere near Hogsmeade.

A boy with dark hair broke away at once from his conversation with a fierce-looking blond girl at the loud pop that came from Al's Apparating. They appeared to be slightly older than he was, with faces that reminded him of his family, with eyes that seemed to belong to much older people—like they had seen too much. There were streaks of gray in their hair that surely shouldn't have been there. They couldn't be _that_ much older, after all. Strange.

Al didn't know what to do, no matter how old they were. He would have guessed that this was a Muggle home by the way the people were dressed—T-shirts the same color as the Chudley Cannon's robes and ratty blue-turned-almost-white jeans. So he played it cool. At least, as cool as Albus could get under pressure (this wasn't very). "Hey," he said, as nonchalantly at he could manage.

"Percy, do you know him? He can't be a monster, can he?" the blond girl whispered.

The boy, Percy, seemed too busy taking in the whole scene to reply. His eyes scanned first the Hogwarts robes—of course he would, being a Muggle—and then the messy hair, and then his eyes. There was something in the boy's expression that made Al think he understood who was standing before him. But he couldn't. After all, a Muggle wouldn't know Albus Potter. It was absurd… At last, when Al was sure he would burst from wondering what was to happen, Percy's green eyes shone with the light of realization. "I know you!"

"You do?" said his companion. "Who is he? He isn't dangerous?"

Al wasn't too fond of their talking of him a though he wasn't at all there, but he said nothing, waiting for the boy's explanation.

"You were on the cover of that book, the one the guard was reading at the Empire State Building," he said excitedly. "Harry Potter."

Albus had heard enough of their voices to conclude that he wasn't even in the same country anymore, yet the boy still seemed to know Albus's father. Foreign Muggles knowing about the magical world that lay an ocean away… How very odd. "Well, _no_. I'm not Harry Potter."

Percy seemed to be on the verge of asking, "Are you sure?", but decided against it for fear of sounding stupid. He settled instead by saying, "Oh."

"Yeah," Al said. "I, er, do look a rather lot like him."

The blond girl's steel eyes raced along with her mind as she thought up a million possibilities at the speed of light. Al was reminded irresistibly of Aunt Hermione. She seemed to have reached her conclusion, for she said, "Harry Potter... I read somewhere—"

"Of course," Al murmured, still thinking of his aunt.

"—when those books were set... Oh, when was it? Honestly, there was a long article about the whole series. Why am I not remembering this?"

"Well," Al said nervously. His voice shook only slightly as he continued, wondering what the Ministry would do with him for this. "I'll save you the trouble of thinking on this longer and cut to the chase, okay?" The two nodded. "I'm his son."

"Of course. So, would you care to introduce yourself further?"

Feeling that he would rather not give his identity away further in case of the results this event could have, he said, "Not really. Would you care to introduce yourselves?"

"Percy, age seventeen. Half-bl—"

"Percy, you really need to learn to shut up about that," the blond hissed. She then turned to Al again.

"Annabeth, age seventeen."

Al felt a bit cheated, he had to admit. He was hoping they would be the type to delve into their life stories so he knew just what was safe to tell them. Throwing caution to the wind, he said, "How about those Chudley Cannons?" While it only increased the tension in the room, it was one of the only ice-breaker phrases he had really learned. Besides, it was a good was to see if they were Muggles or not without being too obvious.

"Annabeth," Percy whispered, "is that a weapon? Chudley Cannons?" He was holding tightly to a ballpoint pen that stuck slightly out of his pocket.

She too seemed slightly nervous, but kept her tone calm when she replied. "No. I'd have read about it, wouldn't I, if it were something that was, you know..."

"It's a sports team," Al said quickly. He didn't want them thinking he was a killer, after all. Harry Potter's son, going after innocent Muggles! The _Prophet_ would have fun with that headline.

Looking slightly calmer, the boy said, "What sport?"

He just had to ask that, didn't he? He couldn't even name a sport played my Muggles. He'd heard somewhere, though, hadn't he? Yes, yes. He must have. "Foot-base," Al said quickly, pleased with his clever answer.

The instant he saw the matching confused expressions, he knew he'd said the wrong thing entirely.

"What?"

"Er…"

The girl called Annabeth reached for something in her belt loop, while Percy had taken the pen out, and looked surprisingly thoughtful about whether or not he should uncap it.

He did.

That boy must have been a wizard, too. And wandmakers in this country must have had a fondness for hiding wands in odd places, for the pen had immediately become one. The girl too was holding a wand out at Al.

"Oh, so you're wizards! That's brilliant. I Apparated from—"

Both looked as confused as they had when he had tried the give them the name of a Muggle sport. "Wizard?"

"Well, you'd be a witch, wouldn't you?" said Al to the blond girl.

For some reason, Annabeth looked offended.

Percy spoke up. "We're half-bloods," he said, sounding irritated.

Annabeth shot a glare that rivaled the stare of Al's mother, which, as anyone who had been victim to one could tell you, was no easy feat.

Al let out a slight groan at the term "half-blood". These people—at least Percy—cared about purity of blood. But, that did mean one thing; they were definitely wizards.

"So, you're seventeen! You can send me back! Side-along Apparation!"

Annabeth looked deeply annoyed. Her eyes pierced him in a way that clearly said, "Have you no intelligence?" It was the same look he had gotten from Rose on countless occasions.

"You passed the test, didn't you? You have your license?" asked Al, voice trembling ever so slightly. _Of course_ when he found a witch and wizard, they would be unable to Apparate.

"Apparate?" said Annabeth. "You mean like the gods, appearing and disappearing wherever they please? Of course we can't!"

"Well, you'll have to get me back somehow!" he shouted angrily. How stupid could these people get, never hearing about the Cannons, shouting about their blood status, and unable to Apparate?

Annabeth drew in a great breath, and let it out all at once by saying in a voice that had decided there really was no other option "How? Where do you live?"

"I Apparated from Hogsmeade."

"Where?"

Naturally they wouldn't know about Hogsmeade either. "Er, you wouldn't know where Hogwarts is, would you?" He wandered toward the window, looking longingly for any sign of his destination at all.

He tripped on a book that seemed to have only ever been shoved into a bag. How lucky. Just what he needed now. He extended his arm to break his fall. Maybe he'd get lucky. The floor didn't look too welcoming, not at all. He collided painfully with the ground, but not before something purple that surely had not been there before caught his eye.

"Is he okay? Should we give him ambrosia? Nectar? His arm could be broken; that was a pretty nasty crunch I heard."

Indeed, Al's right arm was feeling about as pleasant as it did when it had been splinched clean off from the elbow down during his second Apparation lesson. Lovely.

But, could it possibly be what he thought it was?

"No, he might not be a demigod," his friend whispered back. "What will we do then; just spread his ashes over that Hogsmeade place and forget he ever existed?"

He used all the strength in his left arm to pull himself back up. He had to see what that purple was doing here. Looking back at the window, Al nearly yelled in excitement. It was the Knight Bus.

"I've got to go! Bye! It's been a pleasure. Hope to see you again sometime."

And with that, Albus raced down the staircase, doing his best to ignore the biting pain in his arm which was growing increasingly worse. He'd just go up to the Hospital Wing and have it fixed. Yes, that was good enough to keep it from invading his mind for now. He had to catch that bus. Another staircase and Al was darting through the doors, straight into the traffic-filled street.

"There you are," said a voice from beside the Knight Bus. It was a girl, chewing Droobles and looking at him with an annoyed expression. "We've been waiting for ages. Well? Pay up? We won't wait much longer, you know." A large blue bubble bloomed from her mouth and floated away.

"How much?"

"Where are you going?"

Feeling Hogsmeade's Apparation lesson would have ended, Al said, "Hogwarts."

"Reckon that'll be a galleon, won't it, Stan?"

"At least," called a voice from inside the bus, evidently Stan.

"That's a good price you're getting."

A galleon for a bus ride? That was ridiculous! Then again, judging by both the accents and the way traffic was moving, he was rather farther from home than he'd ever been. For the second time today, Al had good luck. There had been money in his pocket, in case he managed sneak off from the group to get some of those new sweets he heard about. He handed her the galleon.

"Go ahead," said the woman, with a grand gesture to the bus's interior.

"Choo need us to go all the way over here for?" Stan asked.

"I, er, Apparated here by mistake," said Al, and he felt his face heat up unpleasantly. To distract himself from the pain in his arm and hide the fuchsia creeping to his cheeks, he looked out the window, back to the apartment building. He tried to find the one he'd ended up in. There, fourth to the right, third up. Percy and Annabeth had raised their wands once more. He squinted, trying to catch their expressions. Were they confused or angry or even scared? Wait—their wands! They weren't wands at all, were they? Even through the haze that seemed to surround them, he could tell that the girl was holding a knife, and the boy a sword.

It was a good thing the Knight Bus moved quickly, because Al had a lot of questions to ask when he returned.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks to my wonderful bet reader, wisegirlweasley. I think it's pretty obvious that this is set after the war (in both books), ignoring <em>The Lost Hero<em>, and in Albus's sixth year. I figure that if you're allowed to have Harry and Percy in the same year, you're allowed to do this, too, without use of a time-turner or something. In addition, I figure that if Percy had seen a book with a wizard, it was likely Harry Potter. Of course, it is highly unlikely that he would remember it in many years, but... Thanks for reading, and if you have any other questions, I'd be glad to answer them.**


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed to be a quiet day for the Knight Bus. They only stopped once, and admitted one passenger. A mere three travelers were held by the bus, but this was fine, at least in Albus' opinion. Less noise, he supposed.

A man who had gotten on before Albus seemed quite upset by the long journey. "Since when did they serve this far out? When?" He realized they had picked up _Harry Potter's_ son a moment later, and he became much quieter, muttered something about it being okay, actually. He then found the same interest with the window as Al had.

The person to board after Albus was a young witch who seemed to know the witch who was chewing Droobles gum. After she paid a mere twenty-four knuts for her trip to the Leaky Cauldron and received a steaming mug of hot chocolate free of charge (all without Stan noticing), she sat down in a puffy green chair across from Al.

Brushing a bit of short blond hair from her face with a look of _supreme_ irritation, she said, "Hello."

"Hi." And with that, the ever-social Albus turned his attention once more to the window.

Thankfully the man's stop had arrived, which kept the witch from speaking to him again, at least momentarily.

It did, however, cause her to spill her hot chocolate directly onto Al.

"Brilliant."

Sure to step over the spilled drink on his way to the door, the man muttered, "You'd think they could at least put a charm on the cup to keep this from happening."

"Oh! Sorry, sorry! I really didn't mean— Here, let me... _Evanesco_!" Instead of Vanishing the drink, it seemed to increase in both quantity and temperature. "Sorry!" she said again. "I never was top in Transfiguration. Oh, I know! Er, _tergeo_!"

The drink stirred slightly, possibly from the spell, but more likely from the once-again-moving Knight Bus.

The beverage hurt quite a bit more than he had imagined a simple hot chocolate could. It was so horrible that Al had forgotten entirely about his arm.

Until he, supposing he could at least do something more about it than she, started feeling around the pocket of his robes for his wand, and twisted his arm rather painfully.

Whoever said that you could not focus on two painful things at once must not have lived a very full life, because Albus felt quite distinctly the burning drink and biting pain in his arm.

"STAN!" shouted the witch who enjoyed popping her Droobles every so often, so that large blue bubbles floated throughout the bus, impossible to pop. "You may need to stop! We have a bit of a problem with spilled hot chocolate."

"What choo spill your drink for?"

The blond witch stuttered uncomfortably. Despite the fact that this was her drink burning him, Al felt slightly bad for her as she replied, "I-I didn't try to."

The bus still hadn't stopped, so Albus became rather certain it wasn't going to any time soon.

Still, the bubble-blowing witch worked furiously to fix the problem. Apparently, she was a much more able witch than her friend for not only had she gotten rid of all traces of the beverage, she had also done so in silence.

"Feeling okay, then?" she asked Al.

"Yes," he lied.

She turned back to her friend. "More hot chocolate?"

"No!" both Al and the blond witch said with enthusiasm.

A blue bubble followed its creator away from the scene, leaving the two remaining passengers to sit in silence until Al's stop had at last arrived.

Limping slightly, he made his was off the bus, and toward the castle, which was much farther away than he remembered.

Only when he was headed up the rain-covered drive did he realize that the door wasn't at all farther than usual, but it was just horribly painful in the state he was in.

When he had finally made it into the castle, he was almost instantly caught by Rose, who hugged Al rather fiercely when she noticed him.

"Albus!" she said. "Where have you been? They searched all of Hogsmeade, but you weren't there! You could get in so much trouble!"

Suddenly, he felt slightly ashamed. "Could we just get to the Hospital Wing? I'm not very well," said Al, trying to avoid mentioning how terribly wrong everything had gone.

"But you haven't been splinched," she cried, still apparently furious. "You just want to avoid getting punished, don't you?"

That, Al had to admit, was a bit insulting to hear. "I'm not James, Rose."

"Fine," sighed Rose, more tired than angry now.

And the two set off for the Hospital Wing, Albus slightly behind his cousin.

"What happened, anyway? You aren't splinched, and you haven't been causing trouble. Then _what in the name of Merlin_happened that you got half our year searching Hogsmeade for you?"

"Er, well, I sort of...ended up somewhere else."

The answer clearly didn't satisfy Rose's curiosity. But, Al thought, what did?

"And I...," he started hesitantly. "I met a couple of people."

"Oh god," she said. "Please tell me they were wizards. You—well, no offense or anything—you aren't exactly the best with Muggles."

"In my defense, all I know about them comes from Hugo's fascination with them. I never took Muggle Studies."

"Forget how insulted you are, Al, and tell me: Were they Muggles?"

"I dunno," he told her honestly. "Why does it matter?"

She stopped walking to face him. "Why does it matter? Albus, you could have broken the law by telling them something you shouldn't have!" Rose's voice, Al noticed, had risen in pitch, so she sounded positively mad.

Sounding mad or not, she did put a bit of fear into him. What would happen if he'd said something important, and they _were_ Muggles? He remembered thinking about that, how careful he'd been not to say anything. Until he noticed that they had "Wands!" Albus shouted. "They had wands. They must've been wizards!"

"You're sure?" said Rose anxiously.

Now that she mentioned it... "Well, not exactly sure, at one point it looked like one had a sword, and the other had a knife, I think, but they might have just been really bad wizards, trying to modify my memory or something and instead getting me to see that. That would make sense; there was a lot of mist around them."

Rose remained still as she asked, "Did they say anything, Al? Anything that might have hinted that they were wizards?"

"First, we should keep walking if we're going to get to the Hospital Wing before the mandrakes try to move into each others' pots, okay?" Rose took a slow step forward, though her eyes remained fixed on Al as she walked further toward their destination.

"And they said they were half-bloods."

"So they _are_ wizards. Thank god."

"I think so, but they said it differently, you know? Not like 'Oh, yeah, I'm half-blood. My dad was really surprised, didn't know Mum was a witch until then.' It was more like it was an exclusive club, you know?"

"Well, we've seen that before, haven't we?" she said. "You know, some people are really concerned with 'blood purity.'"

Al would have believed her, going by the number of times she'd been right—from how many Circe chocolate frog cards Lily had to the names of every goblin rebel to exist—if not for the expression she wore; it was not the usual one of confidence she donned, but rather a poorly masked nervous one. He didn't question her, however, for fear of making her even less sure. Instead, he said awkwardly, "Well, this'll be the Hospital Wing…."

"Albus, I can hardly see it from here, and I don't want you causing any more trouble—face it, Al, you tend to, unintentionally or not."

In response, Al attempted to sprint the rest of the way. Unfortunately, this was not possible, so he settled for the speed of an uninjured person in danger of missing class.

Rose didn't give up. Instead, she dove right back to the subject of the two people he had met. "So, say they are Muggles, Al. What could half-blood mean otherwise, that it's such a special group?" she asked, clearly having registered the uncertainty Albus had with her conclusion.

"How would I know?" Al snapped, for the first time feeling truly angry about the situation. "No one tells us anything, do they? We had to find out for ourselves that our family's famous for saving the Wizarding world."

"So," said Rose, sounding both excited and terrified, "we'll have to figure it out, won't we? I don't want Hugo to be unable to get a job in the Muggle Liaison Office just because you've been stupid enough to tell Muggles about us!"

"Yes, we'll figure it out," Al sighed. "But first, I really would like to see Madam Pomfrey. This has been an incredibly exhausting day."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks to my beta, wisegirlweasley. I imagine this chapter is sort of a let down, because it is both short and rather boring. I needed to make it clear, though, that they really had no idea who those weirdos with the swords were. I apologize if my versions of characters don't match with yours, but as they're mentioned so little, it's hard to make them perfect without making them generally dreadful characters. Also, I'm embarrassed to admit, Victoire is the epilogue character I've decided most about, and she certainly isn't playing a big part in this story. Oh, and don't count on my minor OCs ending up as demigod wizards or anything like that, by the way. That just isn't me, you know?<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

When at last they were settled in the Hospital Wing, Al's face was a color recognizable as the same shade as that of a Quaffle; Rose was standing beside him awkwardly, waiting for him to be released; and Madam Pomfrey was talking rather loudly about all the trouble children got into.

"Your parents," she noted to Albus and Rose, "were quite the same. Every other week, it seemed they were coming in with some new problem."

She walked from one end of Al's bed to another, apparently deciding whether or not he was well enough to leave.

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey," he said quickly. "Really, those healing spells were brilliant! I'm good as new." Anxious to go investigate, he put out both of his arms to show her that he really was cured. "See?"

Madam Pomfrey didn't seem to be quite as convinced as Al had hoped she would be. Of course, he had been a bit unrealistic in his hopes; from previous experience with her, Al knew that Madam Pomfrey took her position very seriously, and was extremely strict about letting patients leave her care. "Mr. Potter," she told him, "you realize, I hope, while you may be 'good as new,' I cannot allow you to overexert yourself for the next day."

"I won't do anything like that, I swear!"

When she answered him, Albus was under the impression she still had his father in mind, for she smiled a bit as she spoke. "I trust you'd find some way to." With that, much to Albus's disappointment, she threw the covers of his bed onto him rather forcefully, and asked Rose to please leave so he could get some rest.

He closed his eyes, trying to follow Madam Pomfrey's advice (maybe it could get him out sooner) and rest. He fell asleep not due to willingness, but due to exhaustion, but was not greeted by the friendly nothingness that usually accompanied him during hours of unconsciousness. Instead, he felt the blankets surrounding him shifting to shackles, and the black of his eyelids fading to reveal an office. It must have been somewhere inside the Ministry, for through the door zoomed a violet paper airplane, carrying a message from another department.

A dark, wrinkled hand snatched it from the air. It was none other than the man who had complained about the Knight Bus's detour. Now, however, Albus was quite certain he would not be forgiven because he was Harry Potter's son. This, he could tell from the man's expression, was much more serious.

"You are here," said the man once finished reading the note, "due to a serious violation of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. I trust you know that."

"Er—"

"You very well could be facing—"

The room shook. "AL!"

He wasn't in the Ministry. He was at Hogwarts, in the Hospital Wing. He wasn't in trouble, at least not yet. It was only him, Lily, some Slytherin Beater, and Madam Pomfrey. That was it. No Ministry officials, no violations of the law...

"What?"

"You had us worried sick, you know! Do you know how long you were missing, Albus? No one knew where you were for hours and hours! Did you consider that? You're lucky Mum's in a good mood—well, she was—or you'd be on such trouble—"

"I know, Lily," he said tiredly. "Rose has already given me a lecture about it."

"Well," huffed Lily, "you haven't gotten one from me yet, have you?"

"I believe I just did," Al muttered, though not quite loud enough for her to hear.

"I thought _James_ was the one who caused all the trouble, Al! You're not! We can't all be, you know. Mum would go hoarse from screaming at all of us, and Dad would probably have a heart attack. But I suppose that doesn't matter to you, does it? Not when you've been having fun Merlin knows where!"

Both Madam Pomfrey and the Slytherin were staring at the Potters shamelessly. Albus couldn't blame them; it was quite the scene.

"Where were you anyway?"

"I don't know," he said truthfully.

She moved quickly to the other end of his bed, and Albus had no trouble picturing her long hair setting the whole of the Hospital Wing instantly on fire. She looked down at his bed with such fury, he could have sworn she was trying to do just that. Instead, her eyes merely rested on his, such anger reflected in them, Al was, though he would deny it should anyone ask, terrified. "You don't know?" she cried, sounding quite as upset as Rose.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a local trip..."

"Albus, Mum taught me everything I know about the Bat Bogey Hex," said Lily, dropping her voice considerably so she wouldn't be heard. "You may want to improve your story-telling abilities before I demonstrate."

That indeed was a scary thought, so Albus hastened to elaborate. "It was definitely far from here, really far."

"Rosie says you met people," she prompted.

"Yeah, I don't really know, er, who they are exactly. They were wearing Muggle clothes, but they knew a bit about wizards."

"Well, we sometimes act like Muggles, don't we?" reasoned Lily. "It's not unusual."

"But they were different," said Al. "They looked at me like I'd told them I was one of those wackosprouts or whatever they are when I asked them if they could Apparate. You have no idea how confusing it was."

"You're going to figure this out, aren't you?"

He didn't both lying, only making sure they were no longer being eavesdropped on before replying. "Yes."

"Just don't cause any more trouble. The _Prophet_ has been looking for something good about us for ages. And _Witch Weekly_ seems to be looking for a reason to write you as a 'quiet but daring rebel' for longer than I can remember."

Al laughed. "'Quiet but daring rebel...' How many girls are—"

"Believe me," Lily told him, "no matter how many flattering articles they write, you still won't have girls begging to go to Hogsmeade with you."

That was a bit uncalled for. "There was that one—"

"The third year who got lost? She just wanted to find her friends. Anyway, that's not important. I'm going to help you," Lily said suddenly.

"I thought you said I was hopeless?"

"With girls, I can't help you. With these whatever-they-are people you met, I'm going to."

"But—"

"I'm going to help you," said Lily, "and that's that."

"Fine," Al grumbled, "but you'd better be more helpful than you are quiet."

On Sunday morning, Madam Pomfrey allowed Albus to leave the Hospital Wing after looking him over and making him swear not to do anything overly dangerous.

Albus leapt from his bed instantly, and darted to the common room to find Rose.

It took a bit shorter than he had anticipated. She wasn't in the common room, but heading down the same corridor as he, though in the opposite direction, presumably in search of Albus himself. Neither one, however, seemed to reach this conclusion at a desirable time, for Albus had run straight into her, sending the books in her arms flying several feet away.

"Hello," she said brightly, gathering the books, some of which, to Al's horror, were even thicker than _Hogwarts, A History. _"I've just been doing some research," Rose told him airily. "Could you get that one over there, _A Complete History of Wizard-Muggle Relations_?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure." He retrieved the book from the floor. He doubted whether it had been read by anyone, for aside from the harm that had been done when it fell to the ground, the blue book seemed undisturbed.

"I haven't read all of it yet, but I think it will be quite helpful."

"Yeah," said Al.

"Lily told me she's going to help—"

"Bat Bogey Hex," Al explained apologetically. "Last time—"

Rose smiled, which Al hoped was a sign of forgiveness, not amusement. "She's actually helpful, seems really determined to figure it out."

Lily actually helping him without causing mayhem? Well, that was new. "Really?"

By the time they reached the common room, Al had become even more surprised by Lily, who did indeed seem to be anxious to provide a helping hand. Maybe it was because she and Rose got along well, or perhaps because this was actually important, but Lily did not at all sound to be behaving normally.

"Weird, isn't it? Venomous Tentacula."

The Fat Lady didn't seem to hear.

"_Venemous Tentacula_," said Al, a bit louder.

She seemed to come out of a trance, and Al highly suspected she had been drinking with her friend Violet again, for she didn't seem quite as present as one would hope to see on the portrait keeping intruders away. At least she hadn't changed the password as she did last time. _That _was a nightmare; she had told only one person of this change, and the others were forced to wait for ages.

"She's never been so helpful before—"

"Hi, Al. Hi, Rosie." Lily sounded quite cheery, despite the appearance that she did not get much sleep the previous night. Her cheerful tone, far from making Al rather cautious of his surroundings as usual, made his heart leap; she must have found out something that would help them.

"Hello," Rose said enthusiastically.

Lily didn't wait for Albus to return the greeting. Instead, she ran to her dormitory, and returned a moment later with a book similar to _A Complete History of Wizard-Muggle Relations_ in size, though it seemed to have been read many more times.

She leafed through it excitedly, until she reached a page with the same miniscule print as the others. It seemed no different from other pages, completely unexciting, except for the folded corner marking it. Al was quite sure Madam Pince wouldn't be pleased if she noticed, but said nothing.

"This is it," she said, sounding much happier than one would expect. Then, she pulled the book close to her freckled nose and began reading. "Half-blood. The first description is the one we know, one wizard, one Muggle parent. The other is… Here, let me read it to you. It's a bit odd, but I think there might be something. Anyway, it says here that 'half-blood can also mean the offspring of a mortal and'—Merlin, you're going to think I'm mad—'a god.'"

"You're right," Albus laughed harshly. "You're mad." How could she possibly let them think even for a moment she had found a good lead?

Lily looked upset, but Al hardly cared; it was horrible of her to make them believe the mystery was at last solved.

"Go on," said Rose encouragingly. "What else does it say?"

Lily, drawing bravery from Rose's support, replied instantly. "It goes on a bit more, but afterward it says, 'see demigod, page 421 for more information.'" She raced through it once more until she found page four hundred and twenty-one. She read aloud once more, "'Demigods, like wizards, are thought by most Muggles to be nothing more than characters in fairytales. This however, is not the truth. These demigods have been around as long as wizards, and are also often the cause of events found in Muggle (or "mortal") history books, and are currently known to be living in primarily America. These demigods will often be put in danger by both Wizarding and non-Wizarding creatures, causing the numbers of these species to decrease. Despite their overlapping worlds, wizards and demigods have limited communications. However, as is the case with Muggles, wizards will notify demigods if events take place that will affect the other group. Wizard-demigod meetings are generally highly controlled due to the dangers of the situation. See half-blood on page 901 for more information.'"

"Lily, that's brilliant!" said Rose loudly. Several first years jumped. Evidently, Rose's excitement frightened them more than castle of Exploding Snap cards, which had just exploded violently, sending cards everywhere and causing a startling _boom_. "The swords—those were probably because they thought Al was dangerous or something."

Albus was feeling sorry he had laughed. It did, after all make perfect sense. Looking back, he even remembered hearing the word _monster_ leave the girl's mouth. But now what? Did all of them know about wizards? It didn't seem like it...

"Well, we'll just have to find that out, too, won't we?" Rosie told him, smiling, after he'd fired off his questions. She seemed to be in such high spirits now that a part of their problem had been solved, Rose didn't seem at all upset when Albus continued listing all the other things he'd been wondering.

Now, despite the many questions remaining, they seemed closer than ever to figuring it out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: That was oddly lucky, but I didn't want to make this one as boring as the last. I <em>believe<em> that it is correct that when you have a quote within a quote within a quote, you go back to the original quotation marks, but if I'm wrong, I'd love for you to tell me. That's something I'm not _entirely_ sure on, and the people I asked weren't certain either. I have no idea when the next chapter will be up, because it's done, but I think I'll be doing a lot of work on its editing. Probably sometime this week. And to the reviewer not logged in, but was going as hi: I thought Apparate was the verb, and Apparation was the noun. I generally go for nouns for one-word titles, thus _Apparation_. Of course, I admit that the title is far from brilliant. Thanks for reading, and generally being awesome. _Long live Harry Potter, _by the way, if you were expecting me to say something of that sort.**


	4. Chapter 4

It didn't take long for these high spirits to plummet back to the feeling of hopelessness that had engulfed Albus the moment Rose had reminded him that he could have broken the law. Only a week had passed, and no further questions had been answered. The tiny, hopeful part of him that wanted to believe that the Ministry not yet contacting him meant that he wasn't in trouble was slowly losing its fuel; this wasn't, after all, a matter of underage magic, or any magic at all, that they would be able to detect. While the problems he may have caused were just as severe, they had no way of knowing, unless he told them, or the Muggles in the area began acting suspiciously... Rose tried her best to be encouraging, but her logical nature and constant honesty made it difficult for her to succeed. In fact, she could have even made Albus feel even more hopeless than he already was.

"I know that you're nervous, Al, but even if you do get expelled or something, it won't be irreversible, what you said, I mean. They'll just send Obliviators, and everything will be okay. Of course, you'd be in a lot of trouble, but on the whole—"

Al didn't care to hear any more of her reasonable but not-so-optimistic speech. He cut her off. "I don't want to be expelled."

"Waiting around isn't going to help," called Lily from her group of fellow fourth years a few seats over. The rest of the Great Hall was in its usual loud and generally cheerful manner, so it was difficult to hear, despite Lily's raised voice. She noticed, and did not continue trying to explain, but returned to her conversation. She waited until the Great Hall was at last clearing out before sliding closer to Albus and Rose.

"You may be completely stupid, but I'm pretty sure you can hear. Waiting around isn't going to help," she repeated.

Al said nothing, though he caught Rose nodding enthusiastically.

"Well?" she pestered him. "What are _you_—?"

"I have to finish an essay," he told his sister. "It's due tomorrow." While it was quite true that he needed to finish his essay, Albus was certain editing would not take so long that he could not hear Lily's thoughts.  
>The ceiling of the Great Hall featured the last touches of sunlight, the shadows of the moon and stars emerging from their hiding places at last. Taking advantage of this scenery, Al chose to release an exaggerated yawn, which while somewhat unconvincing, would hopefully allow him to escape without receiving too much trouble from his sister.<p>

He hurried back to the common room, catching only what sounded suspiciously like Rose saying loudly, "He really should have finished that essay by now," before being reemerged into the crowd of students, most hanging back to chat with friends from other Houses. Pushing his way through groups of people, returning the greeting of a friend, he eventually found his way back to the common room.  
>Albus spent quite a bit more time on his essay than he normally would have done, making sure his essay was exactly the required length, and that his handwriting was not irregular long after general corrections had been made. Indeed, he was being even more careful than Rose with this essay, and <em>that<em> was saying something.

However, he soon had to accept that one could simply not spend so much time on a single essay, and went to bed early, carefully avoiding the eyes of Lily and Rose. They had been glancing up from their own work every so often, and occasionally whispering things Al could not hear. He gathered his quill, essay, and textbook in his arms, and walked off toward his dormitory.

That night, he was surprisingly hit by another dream. It took a little longer for this one to come into focus, however. Having been thinking merely of Quidditch before falling asleep, his mind was still following each of the players as they slowly melted away to form a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Though Albus was sure he had never seen this edition of the Prophet in his life, he saw it as clearly as though he had stared at it for years. The image was oddly clear, and for some reason Al was not surprised at all when he saw his own cartoon face staring back at him while his hands were working furiously to destroy some sort of document. The headline beneath the illustration made the bold statement "Albus Potter—His Path to a Lawless Life." Despite appearing to be the day's biggest story, the article was short.

"Albus Potter has never handled the attention he has received as Harry Potter's son well. In fact, several sources report him to have a great liking for being locked away from the outside world, in complete solitude, possibly to practice Dark magic. However, with this latest news, even that seems like child's play. Recent information directly from the Ministry of Magic itself shows that Albus Potter has been visiting other nations and spreading the truth about the Wizarding world to Muggle ears. Says one Ministry official, Geoffrey Zuic, 'I imagine the boy was seeking even more attention, and this—telling Muggles all about our world—was the perfect way to get it.' This idea is not, of course, unusual. Some who have met Albus agree that his love for the spotlight is greater than he had originally let on. Others like Eleanor Sennit suspect that, despite his family's supposed pro-Muggle beliefs, he intends to harm these Muggles as well as informing them of the existence of wizards. There has been no news yet about the Obliviator's actions from here, or his family's response to this terrible event."

The moment Albus finished the article, he awoke. It was already morning, though not late enough for anyone else in his dorm to be awake. After putting his robes on, he rushed immediately to the common room. He would have to listen to Lily, he knew now, regardless of how little he wanted to. If she had found something else, he didn't want to miss out on it. For all he knew, that article could be appearing any day now.

Luckily, both she and Rose were already there when he arrived. They were still talking in whispers until they noticed him.

"Albus," said Lily quickly, and there was a noticeable hint of coolness in her voice.

Rose on the other hand, had an air of forced cheeriness about her. "Hi, Al!" she said.

"Hello. Anyway, what was it you were saying to me the other night?"

"You shouldn't just wait until you forget about it. We need to, you know, do something. Who knows what they've done if they didn't know about us?"

"They probably thought they were going insane or something," suggested Al weakly.

"Or they've gone and told everyone they know," Lily reminded him. "You don't want that, do you?"

"Well, no."

Rose spoke up. "We've been thinking, Al," she said.

"That's new."

"We think you should tell someone."

Oh, Merlin. Where were they going with this? They couldn't want him to tell anyone else about this! It was bad enough he'd mentioned it at all. If he hadn't said anything, he might have been able to forget about it altogether. "I've told you!" Albus cried. The fewer people that knew the better, the sooner they could all forget about the incident.

"Someone in authority," Lily said.

"Rose is a prefect!"

Al's cousin became slightly pink. "That...that's different," she muttered, but she looked pleased.

"You can't want me to talk to the Ministry! That's ridiculous." Honestly, it was hardly even a problem. The book had said their worlds overlapped anyway. What was such a big deal that they needed to confront the Ministry? They were supposed to solve this themselves.

"Merlin, no. Not directly, at least. After we tell him, it's not in our control who he feels best suited to tell," Rose explained, though rather poorly, Al thought, as he was feeling more confused as a result.

"Who?" he asked. "Who's he?"

"Neville," said Lily.

"Professor Longbottom," Rose corrected. "Not Neville."

"The rest of our family calls him Neville," Lily told her.

"He's not their teacher, though." Rose sounded positively outraged at the idea of calling a professor by his first name.

"We're told to give him their love."

Al interrupted their argument, knowing that Lily wouldn't give up until she won. "Why would we tell N-Professor Longbottom?"

"He's the Head of Gryffindor, isn't he? He'll know what to do about all of this. At least," Rose said nervously, "we hope he will."

"So," clarified Albus as more Gryffindors exited their dorms, "you're telling Nev-Professor Longbottom no matter what I have to say about it."

"That's the general idea," said Lily. "We just wanted to tell you. It would be sort of rude whispering to you the whole time because you didn't know why we were talking to him."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, AlyKat911 wrote a freeverse about Neville, and helped me edit this. So, she's the reason this was posted earlier than I anticipated. Maybe copy and paste that pen name into that pretty search bar? First I ought to apologize if any of the spacing is weird. I fixed it, I think, but it was causing a bit of trouble for me. Yeah, three cheers for Neville Longbottom, who I only got to write for about a quarter of a chapter (if even), but is still awesome. I have to admit that it wasis a challenge, because he obviously wouldn't be exactly as he was in, say, first year. Hopefully it won't be dreadful. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope the wait for the next chapter isn't as long as I fear it will be.**


	5. Chapter 5

"It's settled Al," said Rose exasperatedly; another of Albus's attempts to avoid confronting Professor Longbottom had failed.

"But we can handle this ourselves! We've been doing loads of reading—we still are." It was his most desperate attempt at persuading her. If the books-know-everything approach didn't work, there was surely no hope at all.

"That's just it," Rose told him. "I've read something..."

_Too much, some would say_, Al thought, though said nothing, waiting for her to finish her thought. Maybe his silence would be enough to make her uncertain….

It wasn't. "And it didn't sound very good," said Rose. "I think Lily was even smarter than she thought—"

"That's new..."

"Waiting around really won't help. I read that the longer you keep it a secret, the bigger the problem becomes. There was one wizard in Germany who showed Muggles his broomstick—flew it around the yard. And the Muggles told everyone they knew. I mean, why wouldn't they? It must have been bizarre seeing that. And, anyway, a few people even believed them. So, the wizard never told anyone about what he'd done. A few months later, the Muggles were getting really suspicious, so the Ministry had to do something about it. Loads of Obliviators were needed, and the wizard was—I don't agree with this, really, but it's what happened—given a stern warning from the Ministry of Magic."

"He was really stupid, though!" argued Al. "I only said a bit. It's not like I was telling them, 'Here, I'm a wizard! Let me show you some spells.' They probably didn't even realize what I meant."

"I remember you telling them a rather lot, actually," said Rose. "I really don't want to get you into trouble. That's the opposite of what I'm trying to do, honestly!"

"Doing really well on that, aren't you, telling a teacher?"

"I just think it would be a lot easier for our family to find out before you're sent to the Ministry for questioning—which won't happen," she added quickly, seeing the horrified look on Al's face, "if all goes well."

"Fine. After Herbology, then?"

"Yes."

* * *

><p>"Remind me, Rose," said Albus, "why we're taking Herbology." He had been taken by surprise just moments ago by an overly friendly Venomous Tentacula, and was still feeling rather upset.<p>

"_I_ took it because it's a useful subject. _You_ took it because you were both under the impression it was an 'easy O' and uncertain about your future," Rose told him. "What have you decided on, by the way? If you're of age now and you still don't know—"

"We were going to talk to Professor Longbottom after class, then?"

Rose didn't continue presenting Al with questions on his future, but chose to remove her dragon hide gloves after looking carefully over her work. "Yes, I think we are, any minute now, once the others have all left."

Professor Longbottom dismissed the class, informing them that their homework was to be well-rested enough to handle dirigible plums, which were quite dangerous if not cared for by the proper person. Apparently, though excellent for helping one boost their intelligence, they would occasionally make the person insane should their handler be focused on something else.

Though pleased of the assignment "sleep", there were several worried mutters from Albus's classmates about the plants' side effects.

It took several minutes after the Gryffindors had left for the Hufflepuffs (who seemed determined to make sure their plants were in near-perfect condition) to shuffle off with several "goodbye, Professor Longbottoms"s. When at last the greenhouse was empty aside from Al, Rose, and Professor Longbottom, Rose gave her cousin a meaningful look and headed toward the Mimbulus Minbletonia to which the Head of Gryffindor House was tending.

"Hello, Professor!" she said enthusiastically, and then added, a little less so, "Albus has something to say to you."

"Go ahead," Professor Longbottom said kindly. "Is it about that Venomous Tentacula earlier? It's actually quite a good sign, because it isn't trying to kill you."

Slightly bemused by this, it took Al a moment to explain what Rose had meant. "Er, you know when I, well, Disapparated from Hogsmeade a while ago, and ended up somewhere else?"

Neville nodded encouragingly. "Go ahead."

"And, well, there were these strange people there," said Albus. "Called themselves 'half-bloods', but we think it means something else. Demigod, maybe? Anyway, I sort of mentioned some things I _maybe_ shouldn't have."

Albus could tell that he had taken Professor Longbottom by surprise. He could also, however, make out through the curiosity something like a smile on his teacher's face, and knew that this was not the first time he had heard of a Potter's habit of causing trouble. "Go on," Neville told him.

"I mentioned the Cannons—you know, the Quidditch team—"

"He knows, Albus," Rose said impatiently.

"And some other stuff about, well, our world. They seemed really confused...," Al continued, recounting every detail he could remember until at last he ran out of them, and his throat was rather sore.

"I think I'll write to your parents," said Professor Longbottom finally.

Albus tried not to swear too loudly, though Rose seemed extremely pleased with his response.

"Thank you _so_ much, Professor," she said kindly, and led Albus from the greenhouse wearing a satisfied smile on her freckled face.

"Why are you so happy?" Al asked immediately.

Rose looked at him curiously. "You can't think it would be better to make a bigger scene?"

"_They_ might make one, though. I'll surely be surprised if I don't get a Howler," he said, suddenly dreading the next day's breakfast.

"A Howler isn't the worst thing that could happen, is it? Plenty of people have gotten them. Sure, it's embarrassing, but it's hardly your biggest concern. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't gotten one before."

"Thanks, Rose," said Al sarcastically. "That's really comforting."

"Anyway, your parents will do what's best," Rose told him. "If they send a Howler, if they involve the Ministry, whatever they do, it'll be for the best."

Of course she would say that, not being the one facing a possible Howler. Did she not remember when James got one?

She must have believed what she said, though, Albus thought, because Rose had the worst—or best, depending on who was looking at it—habit of truth-telling. For as long as Al could remember, she was honest. Annoying? Yes, it was. Comforting? Rarely. However, Albus found there to be a microscopic bit of solace in her words. If it really was for the best, as she had put it, surely nothing terrible could be the result.

He went on with the rest of his day as normally as possible, though slightly jumpier than usual, becoming much more alert when he spotted the scarlet of a Howler—even, to Lily's amusement, on Rose's prefect badge for a moment at dinner.

"I told you, there isn't much to worry about," she told him after his brief moment of panic. "You haven't been expelled and no Howler's arrived, well, yet..."

"_Yet_. Thanks again, Rose. _Yet_ was really necessary."

"I'm not denying that there isn't time for either to happen, Al. It's not very likely that they will, but they might."

Albus attempted to distract himself from thoughts of expulsion by taking a large bite of his meal and staring up at the ceiling, which today featured a dull, gray sky and small raindrops falling from silvery clouds. Unsurprisingly, the scenery did not have the desired effect of improving his mood.

When he fell asleep, for the first time in his memory, he was surprised not to have a dream. His thoughts before falling asleep had certainly not been prompting it: a screeching Howler surrounded by the whole of Gryffindor table and Ministry officials waiting to drag Al to the Ministry of Magic of questioning…

Breakfast the following morning was possibly even worse. Overnight, Albus had convinced himself that he would be receiving a scarlet envelope that smoked at its corners.

He could picture quite clearly several scenes, similar to the one he had been thinking of before, though varying slightly in degrees of horror: Other students would be hiding behind their newly-printed copies of the _Daily Prophet_ (all bearing the same headline he had seen in his dream two nights previously). They'd be laughing at him, maybe silently, maybe not—he could not hear anything over the Howler's great sound. If not for the sense of dread so strong it was suffocating him, Al might have thought it had already happened.

When the first owl arrived in the Great Hall, Albus flinched slightly before realizing this one was not intended for him, nor was its message startlingly red. He sighed in relief, though the freedom from worry lasted for such a short time it might have never existed. Every owl appeared, at first glance, to be carrying a Howler, and the _Prophet_'s owls seemed slower than usual.

"There," Rose told him suddenly, as a few more owls flew slowly into view. It took Albus a longer time than he had expected to find the one she had meant. A few of them, he could tell, were carrying the _Daily_ _Prophet_. She might have meant those, he supposed, but she had probably been referring to his owl from home. That one, Albus was certain, would be obvious carrying a crimson envelope so unlike the others. So _where_ was it?

As Rose's copy of the _Prophet_ as well as his own arrived, he realized that he wasn't getting a Howler; his parents' owl was only a few feet away, carrying a letter that was no different than one asking how school was.

"See?" said Rose as the owl appeared beside him. "Just an ordinary letter, not a Howler."

"They must not have gotten Professor Longbottom's letter yet," Albus concluded, taking the letter and setting it aside to look through the _Daily_ _Prophet _in search of the article he feared would be published. "There's no other explanation."

Turning the page of her own newspaper, Rose didn't bother to look up when she replied, "There are plenty of explanations."

"Are there any articles in there," Al said, lowering his tone slightly so no one else would hear, "about _it_?" He had been saving mention of this fear until now, when it was so very real; he didn't want to sound so childish, worrying about _everything_.

"Of course there aren't."

It didn't stop Albus from searching every bit of the _Prophet_ before feeling, at last, relaxed again.

"You should open your letter now," Rose ordered, the bossiness in her voice obvious as ever, as well as her immense curiosity. "And eat something," she added as an afterthought. "You _must_ be hungry."

"Right. Yeah, I'll do that," said Albus, taking a few bites of his breakfast in a hasty manner that greatly recalled his brother's method of eating.

Rose watched him anxiously, blue eyes flying from the unopened letter to Albus, then back again. "Um, almost finished?" she asked in a poor attempt to sound casual.

"Oh, sure, yeah, I'm done." He laughed nervously. "So… I should open the letter?"

Pausing for little more than a second, Al tore the envelope open more viciously than one would generally expect, causing in several Gryffindors to look at him curiously, while Rose stared at the parchment in her excitement to read what Albus's parents had to say on the matter.

_Well_, he thought nervously, _it can't be anything_ too _bad…_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Happy birthday, Neville. It was mostly luck that gave you the Neville chapter (that's what I'm calling it, even though he only said about twenty words) on his birthday. Also, I'd finally gotten rid of a few of my many uses of Venomous Tentacula. Honestly, the dirgible plums and Mimbulus Mimbletonia were both Venomous Tentaculas in my first attempt. Who remembers the password from a few chapters ago? Yes, it was Venomous Tentacula. Anyway, I don't like my Neville very much, because I couldn't translate him very well from my head to the story. My apologies. The next chapter is coming along more quickly than I expected, so it will hopefully continue moving that way. It will probably be a bit short, though. Anyway, thanks for reading. (:<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

So, with Rose peering anxiously over his shoulder at the letter, Albus began to read the disorganized writing of his father.

_Albus—_

_We've just received word from Neville that your Apparation lesson in Hogsmeade didn't go very well. Because of what you've told the Muggles—or whoever it is they are—the Ministry of Magic is seriously considering the use of Obliviators. Try not to panic, though. I've convinced them to think it over a bit—told them it was a good opportunity to improve our relationship with foreign Muggles. They've been considering doing things to improve those relationships for a while, so I don't think they'll be terribly difficult to convince. You probably won't be put on trial or anything like that, but you must remember to be prepared. The Ministry is at times very unpredictable, as you've learned in History of Magic—well, as Professor Binns has still been teaching, you probably haven't. You can relax for now, and try not to do anything that will get you into even more trouble._

_Hopefully your future Apparation lessons won't be so disastrous. Good luck. We'll be sure to tell you what's going on as soon as we can._

_And before we forget, Ron wants to give you his congratulations on finally giving your instructor some trouble. He's never really been fond of the instructor, you see, though we'd have to discourage you from doing something like this in the near future._

He could tell quite easily where Rose was in reading and rereading the letter, for she kept muttering things like, "Obliviators..." and "That's only going to do harm, of course..." giving her the appearance of a madwoman.

"Rose?" Al said, slightly louder than he would have normally done.

"Hm?" asked Rose distractedly.

"I was thinking... Maybe we should get back to that research. It could only help."

"Right." It seemed at the word "research," Rose had left whatever place in her head she had been. Immediately the far-away look in her eyes returned to normal, and her voice became as quick and bossy as ever. "How is immediately for your schedule?" she asked.

"Great."

And so, not for the first time, the two were headed toward the library with much more enthusiasm than displayed from your average Hogwarts student.

"I think we should look for cases similar to yours, in specific," Rose informed him as they turned a corner. "Of course, we've seen some before, like the wizard I was telling you about a few days ago. But it would be helpful knowing even more. Just in case you've got to go to the Ministry."

Al didn't comment. The thought of going to the Ministry because of what he'd done wasn't pleasant, despite everyone he knew there. That fact, perhaps, made it even worse.

Rose didn't speak directly to him any more until they reached the library. Albus did, however, catch her speaking under her breath to people unknown several times before she finally said, "Here."

The ancient Madam Pince had grown quite used to the company of bushy-haired girls and mischief-making boys in the library, though she never became any fonder of it. They usually ended up dirtying the books unnecessarily, and removing more from the shelves than should be allowed. More than once she mad attempted to make the entire library inaccessible to these students without a pass. It would, after all, cause far less trouble. However, as these attempts had all failed miserably, she found herself in the presence of these mess-making, problem-causing students quite often. This visit, she was sure, could mean nothing good for her or for the books.

Albus could see on her face from the moment they walked in the library that they weren't wanted. Rose could as well, he noticed, because she was noticeably nervous when she strolled past the many shelves until she found a good place to search.

As she ran her fingers across each of the books' spines, Albus asked her, "Where should I look?"

She didn't look away from the shelves as she replied calmly, "Somewhere over here. I've got a good feeling about this."

He searched the opposite side for quite a while. _Dragons That Can't Stop Killing People and Why You Should Maybe Avoid Them_, which Al suspected contained the names of every dragon in existence… _Muggles Who Know_, which wasn't as useful as it seemed; it was merely about Muggles inventing such clever things. By the time he had seen half of what this section contained, Albus was quite certain this was the portion of the library that contained books students were too lazy to put back where they belonged. Copies of _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle _from over thirty years ago were lying flat on the shelves, under a Charms book that was dancing madly on top of them while changing colors so rapidly, Albus found himself with a slight headache by the time he passed it.

"Rose?" he asked, setting down the disappointing _Wizards Who Can't Shut Up_. "Why are we _here_ exactly? Isn't there a, well, better section?"

"I thought it was obvious," Rose said, sounding quite relaxed. "Other people have found these useful, or else found them too odd or boring. We'll probably find something helpful, too. This is where I found a lot of the books we were using earlier." She picked up a mustard-colored book that seemed to Al likely to fall apart any moment, and flipped through the yellowing pages. "I think this one might be good."

"_Spellotape: How to Fix Situations Caused by Wizards with Bigger Mouths than Jarveys_," Al read slowly, struggling to make out the black letters so faded they now resembled cobwebs. "Should I be offended?"

"That someone wants to help you?" asked Rose. "I wouldn't be."

"Well, er, thanks…"

"Do you want to look some more? Just in case this one doesn't help, I think that would be a good idea." She went back to searching without another word.

_Ice Mice: Candy from Space_(Al made note to read this later), _What a Hufflepuff Truly Is, _and a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_… _Just in Thyme: Simple Recipes for Wizards_…An old book on invisibility that kept flickering so that it was sometimes there, and sometimes just and empty space between a potions book and _Writing Wrongs: Wizards Tell of Their Mistakes and How the Ministry Fixed Them._

_Well, _Albus thought, _that one might not be useless._

"How's this?" he said, turning to face Rose, who was leafing through a book called _Hypnotism Isn't the Answer, a Guide to Convincing Your Muggle Neighbors That It Wasn't a Broomstick You Were Flying Around Your House._

Rose looked at it for a moment, eyeing it as though trying to figure out if it were a galleon or merely leprechaun gold. Then, she smiled slightly and said, "Yes."

After searching for a bit longer, they found themselves with a pile of eight books, in varying degrees of hugeness.

Madam Pince reminded the two pointlessly of her many rules of handling these books as they showed them to her.

"…And _don't_ even try eating near them."

"Yes, Madam Pince," Rose said tiredly, taking _Writing Wrongs_ from the librarians wrinkled hands, and adding it to the towering stack of books in her arms. "Have a good day."

"So," Rose said immediately after exiting the library, her voice returning to its normal volume, "after our classes, we'll start reading these, and I think Lily will want to help as well."

"Okay."

"So you can read two of these, because—no offense, Albus—you aren't a very fast reader. Lily and I will each read three. I think she'll be okay with that…."

And so it was that—much against Madam Pince's instruction—there were two Gryffindor students eating their meals while deeply immersed in their books, looking up only when another seemed to be choking on his meal, while a third took momentary absences of conversation such as then to be good times to read her own book.

Albus, Rose, and Lily were all determined to read the books as quickly as possible. Rose had even suggested that they check out more when finished reading the others.

"Of course," she added hastily to Lily in the common room, "you have your OWLs next year, so if you want to study, that would be important to do as well."

"You have your NEWTs next year, but you can still fit in time for reading," said Lily. "And it's _next_ year, not this year."

Rose, for a moment, looked nervous, apparently wondering if she should be studying more than she already was. "Okay," she said eventually, though sounding rather reluctant. "We'll go over the books as we finish them, then?"

With that, they picked up their books once more and continued reading.

Albus had to admit, some of it was a bit interesting. It certainly wasn't fun, but it was a bit of a conversation-starter knowing that one wizard in Bulgaria kept a troll as a pet, and that a witch in Russia had a fondness for showing off her highly illegal dragons.

Several long days and sleepless nights later, Albus had finished one of the books, which, as he explained to Rosie, was far from helpful in escaping serious trouble: It descried the severe punishments for these rule-breaking wizards, and the unanimous decisions of using them.

"She—the witch in this painting, the one with all the fire—was forced into living with starving dragons for mentioning her pet dragon to Muggle neighbors," he told her nervously.

"Oh," said Rose, which Al thought was a rather bad response to what he had just informed her of. "That's not very kind, is it? I suppose it was because the Muggles had been becoming less worried about wizards, and she kind of ruined it for us. I can sort of see why they might be harsh."

"Are you trying to make me feel worse?"

"Of course not," Rose amended quickly. "I was just thinking that severity would depend on what was going on at the time, so it would make some sense then, but now it doesn't, you know? So it might not be as bad for you."

"We still have nothing," Al pointed out.

Rose frowned uncertainly. "Hm," she said thoughtfully. "I suppose not if we're supposed to defend you or something… It wasn't exactly a life-or-death situation… But it was somewhat urgent, I suppose. I'm thinking the next book I'm reading will touch more on that."

Several more days and Albus had made it a quarter of the way through a book that seemed no more helpful than previous ones and much more boring, using the excuse that he was trying to get the sleep Professor Longbottom had recommended. As this was a school-related matter, Albus figured, Rose couldn't complain.

"I'm still managing to read," she told him tiredly. "And you have less to read than us, too!" But, as he'd expected, she continued almost immediately, "But I don't want you to go insane," to which an apparently eavesdropping Lily added, "Yeah, you're bad enough already."

So when Albus went to breakfast the following day, fairly well-rested and having read much less than Rose had, he was fairly content, save for the ever-present fear of being sent to the Ministry. He wasn't worrying about newspaper articles, or Howlers, or demigods, or if he'd invite anyone to the next trip to Hogsmeade.

Naturally, he was much more surprised than he normally would have been when he yet again received an owl other than his usual copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: You're probably more worried about the end of this chapter than the small detail I'm about to go over, but I care more about the small details. <em>Writing Wrongs<em> is in fact meant to be spelled that way. Cheesy? Yes, it is. But if book titles include puns, they're probably bad ones. Speaking of titles, I'll agree that some of these titles are freakishly long. And that you may have trouble reading for the next few days because of all the italics in that section. Sorry about that. Let's see, oh yes, the letter! At the beginning of the chapter, I mean. Yes, I imagine Ginny was perfectly chill with all of this, so didn't bother with a letter. (Did you catch my sarcasm?) Also, I must apologize for my characterization of Harry. We missed nineteen years of his life, so it's sort of difficult for me to write him as anything but what we really knew him as. He'd have obviously changed quite a bit, without a prophecy, without Voldy, with _kids. _So, my apologies for those things, and for the long author's note. **


	7. Chapter 7

It was hardly even a letter, really. It was only a few sentences long, fitting easily on a small scrap of parchment.

_The Ministry has almost reached its decision. We'll tell you more as soon as we can._

"Well," said Albus flatly, "that was a waste of ink."

"Hardly," Rose corrected. "You know a bit more now. You must be a bit relieved."

She couldn't be serious. "They didn't tell me anything more than I'd gotten from the last letter," he argued.

"It doesn't matter," his cousin sighed. "Just a few more days, a week at most, and you'll know more."

"Right."

The expected gap dragged on for what seemed like years. It appeared that between the three of them, Rose, Lily, and Albus had read nearly every book in the library, very few of them useful. The most distracting things Albus could do were read the copy of _Ice Mice: Candy From Space_ he had been eyeing previously, and wonder if he wanted to invite someone to Hogsmeade next weekend, or perhaps practice for the Quidditch match two weeks from now.

None of these things were particularly good distractions either, for reading about the exotic sweets was not so pleasurable as eating them, the only person he could possibly want to go to Hogsmeade with had already made plans with a fellow Hufflepuff, and he'd been to more rainy Quidditch practices than he cared to attend.

When for the fifteenth time he had read the various ingredients in Ice Mice, no more entertained than the first, Al concluded that there really was nothing that could properly distract him from thinking about what the Ministry's final decision would be. So, he did the best he could at being productive, working on his homework between thoughts of suspension, expulsion, and being trapped with starving dragons.

Oddly enough, Lily's contributions of previous punishments given by the Ministry did not help his nervousness.

"And a few were beheaded, you know, like how Nearly Headless Nick was," she added eagerly, pointing at her open History of Magic textbook.

"Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington," Rose told her tiredly. "It's impolite to call him Nearly Headless Nick, especially when he's repeatedly said not to. Oh, and please don't tell him—Albus I mean—about all of that. It's really nice of you to keep doing research, but he tends to get nervous."

Al was sure to clear his throat rather loudly, because apparently one had to make his or her presence obvious to be thought of as capable of hearing.

"You do," Rose said simply. "It's not a bad thing. If you didn't worry, you'd be even more impulsive, and that's the last thing we need with your luck."

Maybe, Albus thought, he'd get back to how they transported Ice Mice from distant moons to earth... Surely it couldn't have been much worse than this.

Two days after the letter, there was nothing left to learn from Ice Mice (and even if there was, Madam Pince was probably very anxiously awaiting the return of that book).

"Rose, when d'you think they'll write me?" he asked as his cousin made corrections to his map of a far-off galaxy.

"When they know," she said simply, editing the name of a planet.

Here she went again with the obvious answers. "Okay, what am I supposed to do until then?"

"You've got homework, don't you? You've got as many classes as I do, I'm sure you must have something to do."

"Didn't we just go over this when I asked you correct my final piece of homework?" Albus asked, exasperated. Couldn't Rose give a reasonable suggestion?

"Okay, read a book. I've been reading a really fascinating one about—"

"I've done that already."

"Read another one, then," she sighed. "There are plenty of books in the library. You still haven't read _Hogwarts: A History_. You can read that."

"That will take me into my thirties!"

"You haven't read thirty thousand books yet?" Rose asked, sounding genuinely surprised, not sarcastic. "I mean, I know you don't like reading as much as I do, but still..."

"Did you ask what tomorrow's Arithmancy homework is?"

As it transpired, Rose knew the entire month's Arithmancy homework, and Al was about two weeks into it when he'd finally decided to go to bed, feeling thoroughly confused by the possible magical properties of the number three hundred ninety-four. Honestly, seven made sense, but three hundred and ninety-four was just ridiculous. Did witches and wizards get up in the morning, pour their cereal, and count it to make sure they didn't have three hundred ninety-four pieces? It was positively insane.

But at least it was a decent distraction, which was more than he had gotten from anything else.

Well, it was a good distraction until he actually fell asleep. Then Albus's mind was very much focused on demigods.

Perhaps it was how little he had enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures, or else how much time he had spent with Hagrid, but Albus had never liked the sort of beast that was any larger or more threatening than a Kneazle. In fact, when he had discovered that James was lying about puppy-sized elephants, Albus began to regret even signing up for the class. So it was a rather nasty surprise to have a dream about the types of creatures that even Hagrid couldn't find adorable.

Well, maybe he'd find the chimera a bit cute. And he'd certainly like that large, vicious-looking black dog. And that flying horse would be a bit on the boring side. But that serpent-like thing, that sort of wingless dragon (was Albus supposed to know what it was called?). And those sort of Veela-gone-wild things, with the strangest set of legs…

He thought he recognized them from somewhere, or maybe it was just the hope that he hadn't made them up himself. But no, there was something…

Awakening as some other unknown creature emerged from whiteness came as a surprise. He had been expecting to find out where he'd recognized them in the dream. Maybe Rose could help, he thought.

He found her, as he had been expecting, writing an extra-credit essay on some distant moon, doodling a diagram in the margins, just in case her long description wasn't quite enough.

"Rose?" he asked. "You know chimeras and stuff?"

"Yes, and I didn't even take Care of Magical Creatures. You ought to know them better than I do."

"Well, anyway, that demigod lot, they've got those?"

She sighed. "Yes, they do," she said. "And Muggles have toasters. _Honestly, Albus. _You'd think you'd have time to brush up on these facts with all your complaints of boredom. Let's get breakfast."

It was a bit early for breakfast, Al thought, with no one else awake, but he supposed that by "get breakfast" Rose had meant "spend forty-five minutes in the library, and then get breakfast."

_Or two hours_. Rose must have found the library especially fascinating today, for she walked even more slowly down each row of shelves, as though trying to commit each title to memory. Only when they had gone around most of the library did she find something. Perhaps it was the only book in the library she hadn't yet read.

"This one's new," she told Albus excitedly. "I didn't think it was even coming out until the twenty-eighth! It's been in the works for ages. Oh Merlin, this is fantastic! Of course, I've already preordered my own copy from Flourish and Blotts, but—"

"Can we go now?" Albus asked hopelessly.

"Oh, of course! I just need to check this out, and we can go."

When they'd finally arrived in the Great Hall, people were already beginning to clear out, and a few Gryffindors pushed their ways past Albus and Rose. Molly, however, stopped short right in front of her cousins.

"You've got a letter, Al," she told him. "I didn't know where you were, and apparently neither did your owl, so he just left it with me. Here you go. Hope you don't mind—I didn't read it."

"Oh, yeah, thanks, Molly! I'll read it right now."

Taking the place she had just left, Albus began to read.

_The Ministry's finally decided. You won't be able to attend your next Hogsmeade weekend, as you'll be visiting the Muggles you met. The Ministry thinks it's good for their relationships with Muggles, apparently, so if you've been worrying, you're not in trouble._

_Oh, and as you mentioned your suspicion that these weren't _exactly_ Muggles, Vicotire will be coming, too. I'll see you in a few weeks._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Vicotire's from the Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, by the way. That will make a thousand times more sense to you than my just deciding to throw her in there. Also, hooray for waiting forever for a pathetic chapter. Forever going to dislike this one, because there honestly wasn't much I could do with it. Please forgive me. Finally, if anyone noticed something that would have the <span>evolutionary advantage of being adorable<span> in this chapter, you should mention it, because I'm curious. Thanks for reading.**


	8. Chapter 8

Quite unlike Albus's past experiences with waiting, time seemed to pass extraordinarily fast. If asked to recall the week-and-a-half after receiving his father's letter, Albus would find himself quite unable to properly recall it.

Rose had already finished her book and written to her parents about how fantastic it was. She had already started studying for exams. And she had even started to take up knitting during her short breaks from studying. (She wasn't very good.)

He could remember Lily saying, "Well, seems you've lucked out. You don't have to embarrass yourself by inviting someone with a boyfriend to Hogsmeade this time," which Al thought was a bit below the belt.

But other than that, he couldn't remember much. Roxanne reminding him not to forget about Quidditch, Professor Vector asking to see some sort of chart... Nothing could quite be filed as important, particularly in comparison to what he was imagining to happen sometime soon.

Quite honestly, Albus didn't think even his luck (or lack thereof) could present him with a chimaera. What he wasn't quite so relaxed about was how this would actually work out. Obviously they weren't too happy with a single intruder. What would they think of half a dozen? Surely they wouldn't come to the conclusion that they were wizards trying to help improve the relationship between the communities.

And how would they even get there? The Knight Bus again? They didn't seem all that pleased to have to make a journey across the Atlantic Ocean. The Floo Network? Would that even work? Did they have the Floo Network there? Obviously they couldn't travel by broomstick, and if they suggested Apparation, Albus might have died laughing before they made it to another suggestion.

He found out on a pleasant day-warm and sunny, Albus couldn't think about how lovely it would have been to spend hours and hours walking down the streets of Hogsmeade. He and Rose had walked down to the village together, separating when Hogsmeade station at last came into view.

"Good luck!" Rose told him. "Don't do anything stupid, or you'll be spending the summer holidays there as well trying to sort out whatever you did now."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Rose. I really appreciate that."

"It will probably be fine," she said. "Well, I'll be off, then. I think Tomes and Scrolls is having a sale on all books over fifteen sickles."

"See you later then," said Al, looking over hopelessly at the newly arrived train. "S'pose they're here..."

With that, Rose dashed off to Tomes and Scrolls, black robes blowing wildly behind her like some sort of deformed kite.

Forty-five minutes, a rather uncomfortable Knight Bus armchair, and what looked rather like a poorly attended family reunion later, Albus, his father, Ron, Victoire, and several other Ministry employees found themselves on the very same street Al recalled seeing two teenagers in an apartment holding swords.

Somehow, it seemed someone in the Ministry had been perfectly aware of demigods in North America, for things appeared oddly calm. They'd certainly read the book mentioning monsters, and they'd certainly noticed the bit about them being dangerous—from Victoire, of the Beast division, to Arnold Booth of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, it looked as though there was at least one person from a third of the Ministry.

That would certainly convince the two that these invaders meant no harm whatsoever, wouldn't it? Foolproof plan this was. Let's all waltz into the dwelling of weapon-carriers—brilliant plan, no?

Apparently it was, for it seemed no issue at all to stroll to the door and simply ask, for a kind-looking woman this time appeared, and seemed not at all startled by their intrusion.

Was this plan more thought out than Albus had expected? Or was it simply wishful thinking?

No, the blue cupcakes she offered didn't lie. She must have been told… Of course, how the Ministry managed this was still a bit fuzzy, but as the blonde girl and what must have been the woman's son—Annabeth and Percy, was it?—stepped into the room… Well, he'd work it out later.

"So," said someone who Albus guessed must have been a high-ranking Ministry official, "tell us about yourselves. I assume you were warned about us coming here?"

"Oh, um, yeah." Percy clearly didn't know quite what to say. "I'm Percy Jackson."

"I'm Annabeth Chase," the blond girl added. "And you," she said, pointing at Albus's father, "are a fictional character."

"Fictional?"

"You were on that book… in the Empire State Building, the guard had a copy of _Harry Potter_, and, um, it looks like that's you. You were supposed to die too, right? Prophecy?"

"You have prophecies too?" a woman in dark robes asked quickly, startling Albus; she had seemed so quiet that Al had assumed she would not speak at all, but perhaps take notes.

"We don't just have an Oracle for the fun of it."

"Oracle? Don't you have Seers?"

"Well, a few mortals can see through the Mist—"

"Mist?"

Annabeth sighed, as though she had explained this a thousand times already. "It makes mortals perceive things differently, so it makes sense. Like monsters and such."

Albus took notice of Victoire's eagerness to write this down, and of his uncle's mutter of, "Well, that would've been useful."

"Anyway, some mortals can see past that. And they generally are the people who become Oracles."

And so it went on, with questions and answers and questions and answers until it seemed that everyone ought to have run out of breath.

The boy—Percy Jackson—seemed to find Albus's father very amusing, while the girl—Annabeth Chase—seemed mostly to be analyzing the group's every move, as though preparing for battle.

Albus sincerely hoped that it would not come to that.

In just over an hour, he was able to at last breathe a sigh of relief. No weapons had been drawn, and no one seemed traumatized by the event, which was more than he could say about several family dinners.

So as he arrived at Hogwarts that evening, and spoke to Rose—who had been slightly upset by having to put down her book, but quite happy to hear what had happened—he felt only slightly smug. After all, Lily was certainly disappointed by the lack of chaos.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Many apologies for the poor editing, shortness, and most of all the long wait. NaNo-ing and, well, life. I sincerely hope that you enjoyed this final chapter, despite the previously mentioned issues. If you didn't (or if you did), perhaps I could make up for it by writing something you'd like to read. Pretty much anything rated K-T for either of these fandoms (or both again) and a few others. Though it's fairly likely I wouldn't give it to you before December. Anyway, thank you for reading. And off to write for NaNoWriMo! (7,000 more words!)<strong>


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